


My Concubine

by Puniyo



Series: Concubine [1]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: M/M, Magical Realism, Teasing and Fluff, Virginity Check, alternative universe, based on period dramas, emperors and concubines, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 01:41:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16295873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puniyo/pseuds/Puniyo
Summary: 'Who is that?' Javier leans closer for a better glimpse. He can’t see the face from afar, except for the slender figure.'My lord, I present you the flower of the night.'





	My Concubine

**Author's Note:**

> Dear all, I haven't written in such a long time I think I have lost my touch for it. I need to find myself again and find my feather so I can write properly. I'm so afraid I won't be able to find it. 
> 
> But anyways, this short plot, I like to call it some sort of preface because there could be a whole universe explored here, is very loosely inspired by a Chinese period drama called The Story of Yanxi Palace. This said drama is basically a group of consorts and concubines scheming to attain the affection of the emperor while securing themselves a good spot in the palace. In one of the episodes they mentioned that any women entering the palace to become one of the emperor's mistresses had to submit to a virginity check. I find this patriarchal view very oppressing but it somehow inspired this fic. 
> 
> It's needless to say that this is a work of FICTION and that it only reflects my crazy ideas and not the people mentioned. It also does not reflect my own personal views.

‘The lady of the orchid valley, petals on her fingertips and sweet pollen on her lips.’

Another note is plucked from the mandolin as the jester sings the arrival of each new guest. Rain of powdered purple silver and basil leaves that light the feet. Javier smiles briefly at the new lady but his eyes don’t waste one more second on her.

‘The lady of the sulfur river, fiery as an exploding star but tender like the flicker of a candle flame.’

From where he sits, Javier can watch the whole procession to his palace. Soldiers with broken armors returning with their blades shimmering with the enemies’ blood (they all bow to him, waiting for a glimpse of his face to welcome them back as heroes), servants, eunuchs, carts of tapestries, exotic golden melons and wine that he could already smell and almost taste the ripened grapes.

‘The lady of the forest of–‘

‘Enough.’

And mistresses offered for his harem and dreaming of one day becoming his concubines in the serail. Javier stood up, tired of the circus (that already ran for its tenth day) and unimpressed by the display of human and material luxury. So much beauty that could be shown to him and yet so little that he hadn’t seen before.

Until that person appeared, an apparition amidst the crowd. Hauntingly covered in darkness, each step the beat of a war drum but at the same time light as if levitating.

‘Who is that?’

‘My lord,’ the jester quickly prepared a song for the newest paramour but a string of his mandolin snaps at that exact moment, ‘she is the promised tribute from the East.’

‘The East?’ Javier leans closer for a better glimpse. He can’t see her face from afar, except for her slender figure. ‘The province we conquered last month?’

‘Yes, my lord. The only tribe of hunters left. They swore loyalty to you when you spared their lives. The chief vowed the hand of his fairest daughter to you.’

‘A daughter?’ Javier still remembers how his rapier pierced the heart of the chief’s beloved wife, her lifeless gaze besieging his dreams and overflowing his ventricles with guilt. ‘He has no daughters.’

‘But my lord,’ Javier’s slightly higher tone was enough to send his entertainer to his knees, ‘it is no lie, my lord. She is the flower of the night.’

Down, before the marble steps to the inner palace court, the mysterious apparition stops. She looks up to the sky, inhales deeply the lime incense on the air and smiles. She fixes her eyes on him.

A gelid chill runs down Javier’s spine, like a jolt of snake poison infecting his blood. He swears he can see the invisible puff of air that leaves from her parted lips and hear the broken howl. One that also sounded like a mourning purr of a lynx, calling his name.

_Javier._

‘Prepare my horse.’

 

 

A lion’s den disguised as a sheep farm, Yuzuru thought, as he reclined in the corner of the room, mute, his fingers tapping silently the dew-stained glass of the window. He observed the commotion, watching all the maids uselessly tending their neurotic mistresses, all boisterous, pretentious, judging each other’s offerings to buy the affection of the emperor. Even the half men were sweating trying to maintain order, unable to raise their own voices and even touch any of the prospective consorts.

A show even worse than the circus just now.

Yuzuru adjusts the black veil around his head, almost covering his entire face, and he breathes on the glass pane, the foggy surface a momentary canvas for him. He draws a large circle with his pinky finger and adds a few straight lines below it.

‘His majesty, the emperor.’

The room is instantly silent except for the sharp clanking of the wooden sandals and the ringing of metallic jewelry, pearls and slabs of jade. He keeps composing, ignoring the call, until the shadow of the man overcomes his own.

‘What are you drawing?’ Javier gestures for the nearest eunuch to help the presumed artist stand up.

Yuzuru refuses the help and bows before turning to face the emperor. He smirks. ‘You.’ A few gasps could be heard and some murmuring about a head on the guillotine. ‘I would say it looks better than the original.’

‘It does indeed!’ Patrick laughs loudly but discreet, aware that his emperor did not find it as an insult. ‘This one’s wild.’

‘A wild rose.’ Javier gestures for Yuzuru to show his face but he remains in the same spot, without moving at all.

‘Not a wild rose. A rose is elegant, clad in mature passion and eroticism, truly majestic, but–‘ the supposed apparition takes off one of its earrings as someone who pulls out a weed from the soil, stem and roots, certain and precise. He extends the long, one-piece obsidian to Javier, a drop of blood at the end of the hook, ‘it is arrogant. It shows the world its thorns, so anyone can break them and defile its grace.’

‘Where do you hide your thorns then?’ Javier lifts the veil covering Yuzuru’s face and it confirms his suspicion. Long eyelashes, eyes even more lustrous than the crystal in his hand, thin lips which could easily be bruised. His hand rests on his throat, right on top of the small protrusion. He can feel the swallowing motion as the young man in front of him draws in a quick breath.

‘I have none.’

‘So you came for the slaughter.’

‘Like a good lamb.’

‘What do they call you?’

‘It changes like the seasons. The feather of spring, the bow of the ocean, the–‘

‘The flower of the night.’

‘ _That_ too. You, my lord, you can call me by my name.’ His lips move almost imperceptibly, the shifts so minimal it would have escaped one’s vision.

But not Javier’s. He returns his arm to the sheath of his sword, the name of the stranger perfectly imprinted in his memory.

 _Yuzuru_.

‘Patrick, she shall be the first one.’

‘Will you attend the virginity check, my lord?’

He can’t read the picture reflected in the dark eyes, whether it’s amusement and mocking audacity or refined fear and grievous uneasiness. He walks away without answering.

 

 

‘Take off your clothes. You don’t want to make this difficult.’

Patrick stands next to Yuzuru who nods without looking at him. His attention is completely devoted to Javier who sits in front of him, a few meters away, his elbows resting on the armchair.

‘Everything?’

‘Everything.’

‘Slowly?’

Javier chuckles, knowing he is testing _the boy_ as much as he is being tested. ‘As gentle as you can.’

Yuzuru drops the black veil, the satin fabric brushing through his shoulders before falling to the ground. He offers the other obsidian tear to Patrick, not pulling this time until it ripped off his ear like he had done. His hair is neither long nor short but it’s unruly and the strands fall over his forehead, some even over the eyes that had Javier mesmerized. He unlaces the purple knots on his chest, opening the black silk gown with embroideries of dragonflies in gold lines, revealing the silhouette of the muscles on his abdomen.

And a silver dagger securely tied around his waist. He pulls it out, holding its hilt with dexterity, playing with it between his fingers. He hands it to Patrick without any opposition and fight.

‘Why do you have a weapon?’

‘Self-defense.’

‘Nonsense.’ Javier signals his bodyguard to bring him the blade. ‘Our nation is a peaceful one.’

‘Inside these walls, who will dare to conspire against you, my lord? But do you have eyes for every road, every bridge, every province?’ For the first time, there is contempt and scorn in Yuzuru’s eyes. ‘An emperor is just human, even within this city.’

As quick as the general followed his orders, he strikes Yuzuru with the pommel of his own sword, the sheer force of the impact making the younger man fall to his knees and gasp for air.

Javier remains seated, observing the blow. His knuckles turn white from gripping the armchair too tight. ‘I could have your head on the ground for your words just now.’ _And for your defiant eyes that I want so much._

Yuzuru smiles and tilts his head to the side, exposing his neck completely to the emperor, daring him to go forward with his threat but also teasing for knowing he won’t do it.

‘Insolent brat.’ The bodyguard raises his sword again.

‘Patrick,’ Javier finally stands and approaches them. There is a slight quavering on his steps that he masks flawlessly in his stern voice, ‘we all respect you for your work as a physician and I personally still want you as my bodyguard but if you strike again, you will not have your hand anymore.’

Patrick kneels immediately, his hands in front of his head, asking for forgiveness.

‘Leave. No one can harm me here.’

‘Yes, my lord.’

Yuzuru keeps his gaze on the floor, his fingers tracing the green fractals on the tiles. He removes himself from the remains of silk wrapped around his hips and lies down together with the patterns as if he was part of them, another extension to be seen on a kaleidoscope. There is an autumn breeze that invades the air and steals a shiver from his nakedness.

Javier notices the trembling of his body and holds his hand. Yuzuru doesn’t pull back.

‘Did you come here for revenge? For your father.’

‘No.’

‘It’s only the two of us here and now. You could kill me right now’

‘I could. But I won’t.’

‘Why?’

‘I would never hurt you, my lord, but I hunt in the night.’

‘Do you want to hunt me?’

Yuzuru shakes his head, his hair falling over his eyes again. Javier parts the strands away, those dark irises putting him under a spell like before.

‘I came here as an offering. A sacrifice for good fortune on your lands.’

‘He sent you to be my concubine.’

‘If that is his wish.’

‘Will you be loyal to me?’

‘I will only be loyal to myself. But I will be honest with you. Have you ever known honesty, my lord?’

Yuzuru can’t stop the fluttering of his body and he coughs, his ribcage ascending and returning to its resting state, moving his pink nipples as well like two buds.

Dark hair and eyes just as the night sky, porcelain skin of moon dust, lips painted with poppy red – a true flower of the night, he thought.

‘The chief is not your father.’

Yuzuru kept shaking his head, more vigorously, until Javier held him by the chin and kissed the opium lips, should the poison dare to kill him. What he found instead was a faint scent of vanilla and sweetness on the tip of Yuzuru’s tongue, soft, almost melting into his.

What was he doing? He, the emperor, who would only see his consorts in their own chambers and without spending the night, now, on the floor, giving himself to the sudden urge to possess the young man with eyes of a cat and mouth of a fox. The hand that held his chin now drifted down to his navel, tickling the skin there, and further until he found the same heated flesh he too had and was behaving the same way. His fingertips circled the tip of Yuzuru’s manhood, throbbing against his own nerves and coating his hand with a syrupy whiteness. The young man moaned into Javier.

‘I won’t continue anymore if you tell me you were never _touched_.’

‘Do you want to continue?’

Javier is for the first time at a loss of words. He only nods. There were no lies in their bodies.

 

 

‘He is not your father.’

‘No.’

‘You were his lover.’

‘No. I despise him.’

‘He sent you away.’

‘He is a coward. He wanted to survive. He was afraid of dying.’

‘Why did he send you to me then?’

Yuzuru chuckles. He traces a drop of sweat on Javier’s temple. ‘He was my prey.’


End file.
